To Faramir, With Love
by Inquisitive
Summary: After suffering great losses in the War of the Ring, Faramir is feeling very much alone as Yule nears, until Legolas devises a plan to bring him closer to the fellowship. Warning contains spanking


Title: To Faramir, With Love  
Author: Ink  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: As a Christmas present to myself, I am giving me the rights to The Lord of the Rings! What's that? Illegal you say? …Bugger.  
A/N: The story is dedicated to the lovely and talented Helen whose suggestion was brilliant. I hope this had met your requirements and your expectations! Happy Holidays everyone!!!!!!! Warning, contains spanking, if this bothers you please stop reading now. Thank you.

Monday, December (present)

9:43 am

'The elf is up to something'. It was really a disquieting thought with which to start the day. It was however, quite true. There was no doubt about it, all you had to do was to look at Legolas and anyone who had known him for even the briefest of periods would have said with absolute certainty that the look that he had had on his face was the look of someone who was up to no good. Aragorn could feel a migraine coming on; this was not the best way to start the day.

He wished fervently that he could skip the council meeting, but he knew that it was impossible. With the city still in need of so many repairs, and the citizens, his people, still in need of shelter, and enough food to withstand the entire winter, he had to make such daily meetings a priority.

The only problem was, with himself and Gimli occupied at the meetings for hours on end, Legolas was left to his own devices. It was true that he had reached his majority many years ago, and, when necessary, he was a strong and capable warrior, but when there were no such demands upon him; he was really distressingly capable of mischief.

Even though the elf's schemes were carefully planned, and mostly harmless, the constant pranking was beginning to grate on the already frazzled nerves of the new king of men. Aragorn made a mental note to discuss their friend's behavior with Gimli after the meeting; perhaps together they could discourage any further 'cheering up' that Legolas may have in mind.

Aragorn walked into the council room and found that he was not the first to arrive. His new steward sat at his place next to Aragorn's seat at the table. He stood as soon as he saw his King enter, and Aragorn waved him back into his chair. He had been trying for months to get his young Steward to dispatch with the formalities, but it seemed that Faramir had inherited his brother's stubborn streak. It took much to even talk him into joining what was left of the fellowship for dinner, or a drink, he insisted he felt out of place among their comradeship, and he flat out refused to use Aragorn's name in place of his title. For the life of him, Aragorn could not figure out how to bring this poor soul into their company, at the moment, he would be hard pressed to call the lad more than an acquaintance, when what he really wanted to call him was family.

10:13 am

It was not often that Legolas found himself devoted to one task with such single-minded concentration, but this was very important, and deserved his full attention. He was on a mission, and he was not going to let anyone, or anything stop him.

He had been trying, they all had, to get Faramir, son of Denethor, out of the shell he had built around himself to protect him from the abuse he had suffered at his fathers hand. Now Legolas was positively determined that the Steward should spend the Yule with them as a friend. Time was running out, and for all his insight and inventiveness, Legolas was running out of ideas.

Talking with the man was like talking to a very polite brick wall. He resisted revealing anything important about himself, anything that someone could use against him later was the way he saw it, and Legolas knew that it would be a long process to get him to really trust any of them. Even Aragorn was at a loss, and that made the elf's mind boggle, never had he known someone the ranger had failed to reach.

Sudden inspiration had struck yesterday, a way to get Faramir to accept their friendship, and their affection for the somber young man. At least Legolas hoped it would work. If his plan failed, it had the potential to loose them Faramir's trust forever, and Legolas could not stand the thought. He only prayed that Aragorn would understand what he had to do.

Legolas mentally discarded his previous plans for the day, the results of his scheduled fun might be hazardous to his health, and he needed to be in top physical form if he was going to pull this off tomorrow.

The hardest to accomplish, and most important piece of the puzzle would come first thing… Talking Faramir into it.

7:24 pm

"How could I not notice?" Gimli asked incredulously. Aragorn nearly smirked, the dwarf was one of Legolas' favorite targets, obviously he would be aware of the problem.

"Forgive me for misjudging you keen insight master dwarf," Aragorn replied.

"For the king of men, you cheek rivals that of certain young hobbits," this made Aragorn laugh out loud, and Gimli was glad, Aragorn's laughter had grown seldom of late, and it was good to hear from the man who was being somewhat swallowed by the troubled King. Gimli's eyes twinkled with good humor. He knew that Legolas meant no harm, but he could be an insufferable elfling when he put his mind to it.

"What are we going to do with him?" Aragorn repeated his earlier question.

"I'm sure there's a flower that needs watering somewhere," Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "It was merely a suggestion," the dwarf said gruffly. The look on Aragorn's face had changed, and Gimli could not figure out what had inspired that thoughtful expression. "What're you thinking lad?"

"I was thinking about what to get Legolas for the Yule," he replied cryptically, getting up and heading for the door. Gimli watched him go, bewildered and bemused.

Monday, December (past)

1:33 pm

Boromir was at a loss, he had so far been completely unsuccessful in finding the perfect present for his little brother. He had been to every shop in the city, he had looked at hundreds of oddments of all shapes and sizes, but nothing was right.

He was often perplexed by Faramir's manner. At thirteen, the boy was better spoken than Boromir himself ever had a hope of being, he was bright, quiet, and studious, he was almost the exact opposite of Boromir. He loved lore, language, and above all, his big brother. Boromir hated the way their father treated his shy baby brother, finding any excuse to hurt him for being himself, for not being Boromir, for not being a mighty warrior, for looking like their mother…

Boromir wracked his mind as he made his way to the training field for practice. He would be taking command of his father's army in a few short years, and he made sure to work as hard as he could to please the man. When his father was happy, he ignored Faramir, and that was far better than the alternative in Boromir's opinion. He tugged on his bracers, deftly tightening the laces until the leather was snug against his wrist, he would have to continue his search later, although the answer to his problem was still as elusive as ever. If he kept this up much longer, he was simply going to have to go and ask Faramir what he wanted, thus completely spoiling the element of surprise.

Tuesday, December (present)

3:12 pm

Legolas could not believe his good fortune, not only was it incredibly easy to get Faramir to come out with him, but they had not been seen. Now they were free of the city walls, and galloping across the open fields.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Faramir informed him, without much conviction.

"You cannot remain cooped up in that stuffy chamber of yours all the time, you will get ill," Legolas replied, enjoying the feel of the wind rushing by and the light sharp smell of freshly fallen snow. Faramir seemed to concede the point and, as he looked to be enjoying himself anyway, made no further mention of it.

It really was beautiful, the new snow made their surroundings pristine and flawless; there were no signs of the horrors of the past spring to haunt their peaceful ride.

Out of habit, Faramir's hand went to his pocket, but he found it empty. He had one moment of horrible panic, before remembering that he had taken the vial and left it in his chamber. He took a moment to consciously steady his breathing before forcing himself to relax. The reason he had left it behind to begin with was because he did not wish Legolas to see it, he did not want this beautiful creature who had been so kind to him, to think poorly of him. He would simply have to be careful, and hope nothing happened. Thus far neither the elf nor his new King new of the problem that had caused him so much grief with his own father.

Tuesday, December (past)

5:54 pm

Boromir winced, again, he knew he should just go to his room and wait for Faramir to come out of their father's study, but somehow he found it impossible to leave his baby brother alone, even if Faramir didn't technically know he was there.

It felt wrong to think ill of his father, but he could not help it. The man was being so unjust, first he had assigned Faramir so much work that he'd been exhausted all week, and for the smallest of transgressions, the boy had simply been late to dinner, and by three minutes only! Today the list had been so long that it was impossible for someone like Faramir to complete all the chores on time, so now he was being punished for being lazy.

Boromir gritted his teeth as the noise of leather meeting flesh came once again through the door. From Faramir, he heard not a sound; both boys had learned long ago that making a fuss during a punishment would only prolong their suffering, though Boromir had been pressed to put this into practice far less often than his little brother.

He listened, ear almost pressed to the door, dreading the next stroke, but almost hoping for it so that the punishment would finally be over and he could get Faramir back safe in his arms again. But the sound did not come, in fact Boromir could hear nothing, then their were footsteps and he scurried to his room so that Faramir would not find him and have to face the embarrassment of having had his big brother hear his punishment.

6:13 pm

Faramir looked up at the light knock at his door, he knew it was Boromir, and he quickly dashed the remaining tears from his eyes. "Come in," he said quietly. As he expected, it was his brother.

"Oh Faramir," Boromir sighed, looking at his disheveled, and miserable little brother, he held out his arms.

That was all it took, Faramir broke down again as he rushed into Boromir's arms, he sobbed on his shoulder, allowing all of the thoughts and anger he'd felt earlier to escape knowing that Boromir would listen, and hold him no matter what he said. "It wa-as im-pos-ible Bo-bo-borom-ir," Boromir stroked his hair, and rubbed his back.

"I know," he said gently. He hated to see Faramir cry, he was angry at their father for making this sweet tempered young man feel such pain, thirteen was too young an age for the kind of abuse their father insisted on dealing out for the most minor of transgressions, any age would be too young, no man deserved to be treated like a dog. He had to fight to keep the tension out of his frame as he comforted his baby brother, so small for his age, and so kind despite his treatment at the hand of the one who should have loved him the most. He knew that he was no replacement, but he loved Faramir, and he tried to do as much as he could to keep him safe.

It took Faramir a long time to calm down, and when he had, he remained in Boromir's arms, not wanting to give up his safe haven. He took from Boromir the comfort that he knew he could never get any where else, but he surprised himself by squashing the bitter feelings that threatened to well up at the thought, and contented himself with the knowledge that his big brother loved him, and he would always be there for him, no matter what.

Wednesday, December (present)

7:30 pm

The day could not have been more perfect, there was not a cloud in the sky, and the fading sunlight was caressing the snow with shifting, glimmering shards of brilliant light. The horses were thrilled to run, having been stabled too long, they nickered and snorted, only too happy to let loose and gallop across the frozen ground.

"Thank you for coming," Legolas said, breaking the silence at last.

"As you said, I… I should get out more," Faramir said quietly, not meeting his companion's eyes. Legolas felt a new sorrow settle in his heart, Faramir had so long been under the dominance of others, he would doubtless refrain from arguing with anything any of them said. This thought, while troubling, also hardened his heart, he knew what Faramir needed, and he would see that he got the love and attention he deserved.

That was when he heard it. A dreadful cry… inhuman… vicious. "Orcs," was all he had to say, his eyes quickly scanning their surroundings and finding the foul creatures which were fast surrounding them. Both drew their weapons, it was a small band, ten or twelve, Legolas estimated, but they were desperate, more than half starved, and they were very, very dangerous.

Legolas let fly with an arrow, not waiting to see it hit its mark before releasing another. Meanwhile Faramir had dismounted and his sword crashed and clanged as he battled two of the biggest, most hideous beings he had ever laid eyes on. Legolas kept one eye on his companion as he ended the life of three others. Many of Sauron's army had been slaughtered during the war, those that weren't had been hunted, many such hunting parties had been patrolling the surrounding areas for months after, but they had tapered off now, Legolas could not remember having heard of such a large number roaming together for a long time now, and he was truly surprised at the resilience of the beasts.

They stood in a mass of corpses, the last having taken two arrows before it fell. Legolas kept alert, listening intently for sounds of others, though he really did not believe he would hear anything. Faramir stood, a few paces away, panting slightly. The intensity of the fight was wearing off, his heart was slowing and the adrenaline was ebbing. That was when he felt it, he reached instinctively to his pocket and was horrified when it turned up empty, then he remembered leaving the vial in his chamber. It was getting worse, he felt as though someone was squeezing his chest, he could not get a full breath; his throat was beginning to close.

Legolas heard the change in Faramir's breathing, and rushed to his side. "Faramir, what is wrong?" he asked, watching as the young man struggled for air. Faramir heard him, but could not respond, everything was growing fuzzy around the edges, Legolas seemed far away and unimportant, "Faramir?" he sounded as though he were calling into a vast cave, Faramir was surprised when the ground came up to meet him.

Wednesday, December (past)

2:17 pm

"You will never catch me little brother," Boromir taunted, easily maintaining his lead. Faramir tried for a burst of speed, but still remained far behind his brother.

"This is not fair Boromir," he panted, "you have longer legs than I do!"

"Excuses, excuses," Boromir chanted, reaching the tree they had marked as the finish and making a large show of touching it first. Faramir came up beside him, hands on his knees, panting. Boromir looked at him a little concerned, "Are you alright Faramir?" he asked, watching Faramir's color slowly go back to normal.

"Fine," Faramir snapped impatiently, waving it off as unimportant. "Let's go again," he said enthusiastically.

"Perhaps we should take a break for a moment, I'm rather tired from the last race," Boromir knew his brother would not accept the lie. Faramir was sharp for someone his age, it was hard to get anything by him, something which irritated Boromir to no end, and filled him with pride at the same time.

"If you're tired, I'm an oliphaunt," Faramir declared, searching out a new object to set as the finish. "The pillar with the white flowers," he said, pointing to it, Boromir sighed at the boys stubbornness, but nodded and took his place beside Faramir so they could begin. "Go," Faramir shouted merrily, with no warning or preamble, Boromir would have to remember to get him for that later as he raced after the little cheat.

Boromir stayed a few paces behind him, letting Faramir have a little dignity in his defeat, and allowing him the hope of victory, if only for a few seconds. But all thoughts of winning flew from his head when he saw his little brother collapse into the grass, struggling for breath, and flushed bright red.

"Faramir!" he yelled, coming to a dead halt and kneeling down next to him. Faramir looked up at him, eyes wide and panicked, he could not breathe, his throat felt small and tight, he was scared, and Boromir could see it. He knew he had to go get someone, the healers, but it seemed so far away, and Faramir seemed so small and defenseless here in the courtyard.

"He-lp," Faramir managed to choke out, eyes watering, his breathing sounded so harsh Boromir was near panic himself. But the plea was enough, he stood up.

"I'll be right back Faramir, just hold on a few more minutes, I'll be right back," he started running, still rambling, but he was talking to himself as much as Faramir, so he supposed it didn't matter. He slammed into the healer's quarters and yelled for help, frightening quite a few people as he did so.

He did not take the time to explain, just grabbed the first person he knew and dragged them back to his brother. Boromir cursed himself the whole way for not being strong enough to carry his little brother to the houses of healing, Faramir might have been small for thirteen, but he was not small enough for Boromir to manage to get him very far, especially uphill.

When they got back, Boromir felt his own breath catch in his throat, Faramir wasn't moving. The healer, who Boromir could not name, though he had seen him before, bent down and laid a hand on Faramir's chest. "He's still breathing Boromir, but he has lost consciousness, help me get him to where I can treat him," he said calmly, seeing the young man was very much on edge, Boromir felt tears prickling the backs of his eyes, his relief was so great. He helped the other man get his brother up to the houses of healing, not leaving his side for an instant as he was looked over, and finally revived with the use of some foul smelling potion. He had been ordered to leave twice, but had refused both times, finally he was told to sit in the chair and get out of the way, and had reluctantly complied. Faramir was confused and embarrassed when he awoke.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice was coarse and Boromir didn't have to ask to know that his throat hurt.

"You seem to have a condition Master Faramir, which causes difficulties with breathing, I have seen it before, it is rare, but not unheard of. You will have to be more careful from now on, had you been alone the results could have been far more dangerous, luckily when you lost consciousness your breathing slowed and we got to you in time to prevent any further damage, but such may not be the case next time." he looked seriously at the boy before him. Faramir nodded his understanding, looking guilty for causing everyone so much trouble.

Boromir could have smacked the guilt right out of him, had he not been so relieved to see he was all right. "What can we do to prevent it happening again?" he asked, running his hand gently through Faramir's soft hair.

Thursday, December (present)

1:11 am

Legolas paced the length of the hallway, as he had been for hours now. He had taken Faramir's limp form and held him on his lap while pushing the horse to its limits. He had never been happier to see the stone walls that surrounded the city. Aragorn, already agitated, having found two of his household missing and unaccounted for, took one look at the young man in Legolas' arms and rushed him to the Houses of Healing with out another word. They had been in their ever since, and Legolas was fast losing patience, he'd not heard a word from anyone about Faramir's condition.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Aragorn emerged. Legolas looked up meekly, and was shocked at what he saw; the man seemed to have aged a century since he had taken Faramir from Legolas' shaking arms. He looked tired and entirely spent. Legolas braced himself for the news.

"He'll be all right," Aragorn said, looking at the elf before him, the picture of misery and fearful hope. "You got him back in time, but he's going to be weak for a couple of days, and I don't want him out of that bed without my leave," Aragorn sighed, "he's been asking for you, he seems dead set on killing himself to find out if you're all right." Aragorn looked at him again, a long look that Legolas could not fathom the meaning of.

Suddenly he found himself crushed to the man's chest; Aragorn hugged him tightly, reassuring himself that his friend was unharmed. He relinquished his hold, only to run his hands over the elf, checking for injuries. There was only one serious wound, a cut on Legolas' upper arm, Legolas hadn't even noticed before now; he'd been so intent on Faramir that his own problems seemed unimportant.

"What caused this?" Aragorn asked, immediately switching into a healers mindset. Legolas tried to think, but found he could not remember.

"I… I don't know," he admitted unhappily. Aragorn frowned.

"I will see to this after we reassure Faramir, then you elfling are going to get some rest, you look exhausted," Legolas choose to keep his mouth shut about Aragorn's own appearance, one brush with death was quite enough for a single evening. "Rest assured, you and I will have a very long discussion about this when you are healed and looking less pale."

Legolas wanted to argue that that was a less than reassuring thought and that elves were always pale, but somehow he could not find the words. He followed Aragorn into the room and felt sweet relief wash over him when he saw Faramir awake, and looking like he was going to rebel against staying in bed.

"Legolas!" he exclaimed as soon as they entered, "You look terrible, are you all right? How long have I been out? How did we get back? Were they all killed? Have you been looked at yet? You look fit to collapse!" he concluded his barrage, his voice sounding overused.

"Faramir, I want you to rest your throat," Aragorn instructed for the fourth time, knowing the instruction would be equally ignored this time. Legolas, now over to the bed anxiously looking Faramir over himself, answered each question in turn.

"I am fine Faramir, I will not collapse, I promise you. You have been unconscious for a few hours now, the horses brought us back, I thought I was going to loose you, you were so still through the whole ride. What happened, were you poisoned, I thought for sure you had lost too much blood, but when I picked you up there was none."

Faramir blushed crimson, and took a deep breath, happy to be able to do so once again. "It was no poison, it was my own weakness," he whispered, not meeting their eyes.

Legolas opened his mouth to object, but was stilled by Aragorn's hand on his shoulder. "Faramir, this was no weakness, it is an affliction that is well documented, and many strong warriors struggle with the same illness. It is nothing to be ashamed of," he said, hoping to reassure the younger man, but his words seemed to have no effect at all, Faramir continued looking miserable. Aragorn decided enough was enough, and it was time for this pair to get some rest. "Come Legolas," he said, placing a gentle hand on Faramir's shoulder for a moment, "It is time for Faramir to sleep; he must have time to heal." Legolas nodded and mirrored his friend's actions, his hand resting on Faramir's shoulder, a brief comfort.

"I'm going to give you something to put you to sleep Legolas," Aragorn informed him when they were safely in the corridor where Faramir could not hear and worry, "I want you to take it, you need to rest as well, it has been a long night,"

Legolas did not argue, he hated the artificial sleep that came with being medicated, it was heavy and hard to shake off, but he had pushed his luck a great deal this night, and he knew he could afford no more trouble for a while at least.

Thursday, December (past)

7:21 pm

"It is not unheard of… sir," Boromir stood, facing his father, a nervous Faramir at his side.

"Not unheard of in beggars and thieves perhaps," was the man's reply as he sneered down at his young son.

"It is easily prevented," Boromir continued as though his sire had not spoken, but the hand he had on his brother's shoulder tightened a fraction.

"What would you have me do, take the time of one of my people to keep him on his feet. I think not, even the lowliest of creatures has the capacity to breathe. I would not have their time wasted, and I will hear no more of this nonsense," Denathor's tone and look spoke volumes, and Boromir knew that he would not win.

"Yes sir, I understand," Boromir had to fight to control his tone, he had to remain civil for his brothers sake, but his eyes sparked with fury, and had Faramir not been at the risk of their fathers wrath, he would have had words with the Steward, and it would have ended poorly for one of them.

Boromir looked at his little brother, shoulders slumped, eyes defeated, he would not cry though, Faramir hated to cry, even when he had the right to. "I'll think of something Faramir," he said evenly, pulling the boy into a tight hug once they were away from prying eyes. "You will not be left to suffer alone; I am here for you,"

"I love you Boromir," Faramir whispered into his chest, Boromir stroked his hair and smiled, Faramir was his entire world, and he would protect him no matter what, or who, was in his way.

Friday, December (present)

8:46 am

Legolas woke slowly, he had been up the afternoon before, fighting the sleeping potion Aragorn had given him. He had done little more that eat a light supper and lounge in his chambers until it was time for bed, he was of course, wide awake, but Aragorn seemed not to care, so he was forced to at least try to get some rest until morning.

Now he felt rested and he could admit, albeit grudgingly, that Aragorn had been right, thought he seldom needed sleep, it had given him time to heal. Of course healed was not something to look forward to in this case, he knew that Aragorn would deem him fit for their 'discussion', and there was no getting out of it.

Almost as soon as he thought it, there was a loud knock on the door. Legolas was momentarily startled, it had been a long time since anyone had caught him unawares, and he hadn't heard anyone walking outside the camber. "Come in," he called, pulling himself into a more proper sprawl on the bed.

Gimli almost smiled when he entered Legolas' room, the elf was still in sleep clothes, and his hair was disheveled. It was quite endearing, but he was not about to tell the elf that. "I believe we have some things to talk about laddie," he said, standing in front of his charge.

Blue eyes grew wide, he had been expecting Aragorn, Gimli had a decidedly harder hand. "But, Aragorn said… he would…"

"We decided that since he has his hands full taking care of a certain stubborn Steward, I would be more than capable of seeing to you," Gimli replied, not unkindly.

"Is he going to be… discussing things, with Faramir," he asked not quite able to contain his curiosity.

"I believe you had better be worrying about your own hide at the moment lad, Faramir will be fine," Gimli said enigmatically. "Let's hear what you have to say for yourself."

Leave it to Gimli to leave him just enough rope to hang himself, but in truth, he did not mind. If his plan worked, the price he had to pay would be worth it. "I… I am sorry Gimli; I know I worried you and Aragorn. We endangered ourselves needlessly, though the orcs were a surprise, we did not go looking for them I swear it. I should not have dragged him out with me, I was just so sick of staring at stone… I needed to see something growing."

Gimli could not help but feel a swell of pity for the ethereal creature before him, but that would not stop him from doing what he had to do. He nodded, once, curtly, before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I believe you remember the procedure?"

Legolas almost stuck his tongue out, but stopped himself in time; he hated it when the dwarf got cheeky right before forcing him into a most embarrassing position. But sadly Gimli was an expert at adding insult to injury. Sighing, he draped himself over his friends lap, and braced himself.

Gimli wasted little time; he drew up the elf's nightshirt, revealing a pale smooth bottom. The first swat was jarring, and Legolas jerked violently, but Gimli had a good hold on him, his elfling was going nowhere. He quickly peppered Legolas' hindquarters with sharp, crisp slaps, covering the entire area evenly.

"You put your life at risk lad, and that in itself is unacceptable, but what's worse, you dragged Faramir with you. I know you don't like being in the city all the time, but you could have at least told us, we would have arranged for you to go out on a patrol. You know Aragorn cares about you; he would not see you suffer."

The words hit Legolas hard, he had been thinking of none of those things when he had left the walls, his instincts had been driving him at the time, and taking Faramir along had only been a last minute addition to his plans. His tears came faster, he felt the full weight of what he had done now, and wished he could have done it differently.

With those words, Gimli could feel a change in the body over his lap; he knew that he had finally gotten his point through Legolas' thick skull. He finished the spanking with a few half-hearted smacks, before stopping and reaching to stroke the silky hair away from Legolas' tear stained face.

"I'm so sorry Gimli," Legolas gulped, allowing himself to be comforted by the dwarfs strong presence and soft ministrations.

"All's forgiven, just remember this if you ever get any more ideas of this sort in that flighty head of yours," Gimli could not help teasing him.

Legolas turned over and looked up at him indignantly, but could not keep the shy smile from surfacing.

Friday, December (past)

9:57 pm

"I thought I'd find you here," Boromir said, sitting next to his brother.

"Why did you even bother looking for me, I'm just a waste of time anyway," Faramir said to his folded arms, which were braced on his drawn up knees, making him appear even younger than he was. Boromir took hold of his chin and forced his head up until Faramir's light eyes met his own.

"You will never be a waste of time little brother. Your worth to me is more than you will ever know, I don't know what I would have done had I lost you. Your worth to the world is more than one old man could ever dream, do not let him get to you Faramir, his opinion matters little, even if he is our father, he will not be Steward forever." He gently wiped from Faramir's soft cheeks the two tears that had managed to escape. "No more tears Faramir," he whispered softly.

Faramir nodded and took a shaky breath, "What will I do Boromir?" he asked, looking to his big brother for guidance. "He will not let them help me, I could do it myself, but I don't know how, and I'm sure he would find a way to keep anyone from teaching me," his tone was becoming more desperate as he went on, and Boromir feared he might have a relapse as he sat here and watched.

"Faramir, calm down," he ordered, gratified to see the boy actually force the tension from his frame and take a deep breath. "I already have a solution, which is why I came to find you." As Faramir looked at him, he produced a small vial from his pocket.

"What is it?" Faramir asked. He could not believe that the answer to all his problems was a slightly green paste in a small glass container. Instead of answering, Boromir simply took the stopper out of the vial and held it under Faramir's nose. Faramir coughed a bit and backed up quickly, his eyes watering. Boromir actually laughed at his reaction.

"It is mostly eucalyptus and water. It will ease your breathing if you have another attack like the one you had the other day. I know it is strong, but you have to breathe it in and it will help, I promise," he put the vial in Faramir's hand and folded his brother's fingers around the cool glass. "I want you to promise me something Faramir, promise me you will carry this with you always. I meant what I said, I don't know what I would have done had I lost you, promise me you will carry this, that you will not forget, I will not lose you over something that can be prevented."

"I promise." Faramir said, looking Boromir straight in the eye. He might hide it, and he certainly would not let anyone who did not need to know see him using it, but he would not disappoint his big brother. He would always be safe, because Boromir was always looking out for him. "Boromir," he said hesitantly.

"Yes?" Boromir asked, looking relieved at having secured his brothers promise.

"Thank you."

"Any time little brother." Boromir said, cuffing him gently and ruffling his hair for good measure.

Saturday, December (present)

12:02 pm

"Can I please get out of bed?" Faramir had been begging for almost two days now, if he hadn't been given a sleeping draft, Aragorn imagined he would have been begging from the moment he had entered the houses of healing.

"I think you and I need to talk first Faramir, and it is going to be a rather long discussion as we have quite a bit of ground to cover," Aragorn said calmly.

Faramir knew this had been coming. "Then can I get out of bed?" he asked. Aragorn could not help the small grin that spread across his face. He had never seen this cheeky side of his Steward before, he hoped that it was not reserved solely for situations such as these; it would be refreshing to see it more often in the solemn young man.

"We will see," he said, resisting laughter by pure force of will as he watched a beautiful pout come to life before his eyes. "For now, I would like to hear of your most recent exploits, and I would encourage you not to withhold details," he said, adopting his stern expression once more. He could see that Faramir was less than happy with the direction this conversation was taking.

Aragorn could see the effect his words had as Faramir seemed to draw in on himself, making himself as small as possible. He quickly stood and sat next to Faramir on the bed, not knowing if his Steward would accept his comfort yet, he simply put a hand on his arm. "I am not angry Faramir," he said. "I am unhappy with your actions, but I am not mad at you." Faramir looked up at him, of all things he had been expecting; reassurance had not been one of them.

"I don't understand, how can you not be angry when I defied a decree that you yourself put into place to protect the citizens of this city! I do not deserve this kindness," everyone had to have permission to leave the city walls, he knew that, and as the Steward of Gondor he should have been the first to uphold the rules of their new king.

"What do you think you deserve?" Aragorn asked. Boromir had often talked of his little brother, especially about his stubbornness and his ability to bury himself in guilt. He would not allow this young man, someone he cared about, to tear himself apart over this. Leaving the city had been dangerous, but he knew that Legolas had played no small part in orchestrating that little outing. What he was really worried about was the small bottle he had found on Faramir's desk when he'd gone to fetch him fresh clothes. It was not something someone would forget, so he had, for whatever reason, left the medication behind.

Faramir stared at him incredulously, "I deserve to be banished, to be beaten… something!" Aragorn felt real anger well up within him. He grabbed Faramir by both biceps and forced him to face him.

"Nothing you could ever do would cause me to banish you Faramir, do you believe me so uncaring that I would force you to leave over a bit of disobedience. And no one… no one ever deserves to be beaten. I will never hurt you like that. Do you understand me?" he needed to know if he was getting through to Faramir or not. His anger at Denethor had just tripled from its already considerable fury. Faramir's eyes searched his own, and he saw something in them because he moved forward into the embrace that Aragorn had been hesitant to force upon him. Aragorn held him tightly; he would deal with his discipline only when he was ready to accept the correction that came with it. If that meant he had to sit and hold the young man all day, he was prepared to do that.

1:33 pm

Aragorn stroked Faramir's hair where his head rested in his lap. He had dozed off in Aragorn's arms, and the King of Gondor was content to wait until he woke up to continue their little discussion.

For confused moments, Faramir thought he was with Boromir, then memory settled over him, leaving him bereft once more. But he remembered Aragorn holding him, allowing him his emotional release as only his brother ever had before. He opened his eyes and looked up into the gentle face of his King.

"I'm sorry Aragorn," he whispered quietly, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. It was improper to address your superiors by their first names, but Aragorn had been begging him to do just that since the first time they met.

"I know Faramir," Aragorn said, still stroking his soft hair and not missing for an instant the use of his name. "But that does not excuse what you did, would you like to tell me about it?" Faramir most decidedly did not want to tell him about it, he was perfectly content to keep it to himself and continue on his merry way. But Aragorn seemed to have other ideas, and so he relented.

"What would you like to know?"

"Let us start with why you went against your better judgment and followed Legolas on his 'outing'," Aragorn said, glad that Faramir was being compliant, if not enthusiastic.

"It was not Legolas' fault," he began defensively, "I allowed myself to be talked into it when I should have been talking him out of it."

"That will be enough of that young sir; I believe there is quite enough blame to go around." Faramir had to consider his words before starting again.

"He offered me something I have not had in a long time, his friendship and a chance to escape my responsibilities, if only for a few hours. You should have seen him out there, his joy was tangible, it is so easy for him to simply be… To be free." He said finally, with a far away look in his eyes.

"Thank you Faramir," Aragorn said quietly.

"For what?" he asked, startled back to reality.

"For your honesty. I would have you answer my next question as well, and I would very much like the truth," he pulled the vial from his pocket, "Why was this left behind?"

Faramir found he could no longer look Aragorn in the eye, he felt a familiar shame roll over him. "I…" he started, but he did not know how to continue. "It… I only…"

"Had you been carrying this, you could have prevented yourself a great deal of pain and trouble, could you not?" Aragorn asked, eternally patient. Faramir nodded miserably. "Am I then to assume that the reason you did not have it on you, is that you did not want Legolas to discover it or its purpose?" Faramir looked up, shocked that his feelings had been so transparent. He nodded slowly.

"I did not want him to see how weak I was; I wanted a chance to… to…"

"You wanted to gain someone's friendship without their pity?" Faramir had to remind himself that the man before him was of the Dunedain, known for their keen insight; all the same, it was unsettling to have his thoughts laid out before him.

"My whole life, people have known what I have been through, my father… he made sure that the entire city knew of my flaws. I thought that maybe, if I worked hard enough, and simply kept my thoughts to myself, you would not find out what a failure I have become," he trailed off unhappily.

Aragorn itched to drag the young man over his lap and simply knock any notions of failure right out of his stubborn head, but he knew that he had to get a few things straight first. "Faramir, you are not a failure," he stated in a tone that brooked no arguments. "Furthermore, you needn't work so hard for our friendship; can't you see that it has already been freely offered? Legolas of all people would be the first to call you friend, you never have to prove yourself to earn my respect, you already have it. You have had it since day one, before that even, since I heard your brother speak of you, of your strength and your intelligence. He spoke often of your kindness and your perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds. He loved you very much Faramir, as do I."

Hot tears had slipped from Faramir's eyes, dampening his cheeks. He raised his eyes, really searching the man in front of him, fearing he would find a hint of insincerity, but he found none. Aragorn cared about him, and his affection did not come at a price.

"You deserve to be loved Faramir and it is because I care about you, and I could not stand to see anything happen to you, that I have to punish you for your disobedience and for your disregard for your own safety."

"H-how?" Faramir asked shakily.

"You will receive the same punishment that Legolas has received for his part in this little escapade. I am going to take you over my knee, and I am going to spank you." Aragorn explained. Faramir's eyes widened in shock, but he made no move to protest as Aragorn arranged himself on the edge of the bed and began guiding him into position over his lap.

He whimpered as his dressing gown was raised, revealing his natural form for any who cared to look. The first swat drew a gasp, he was unfamiliar with this intimate position, it had been years since anyone had chastised him in this fashion, it was unpleasant, but at the same time comforting to have another so close while he endured his punishment.

Aragorn knew that he could not hold back, he began to put more force behind the blows, keeping up a steady pace. Faramir was soon wiggling, not quite kicking but close to it. It would only be a short time before tears began to fall once more. Aragorn dreaded and hoped for that moment, he knew it was a necessary release for the young man, but he hated having to force his hand in this fashion.

Faramir could not believe how much this hurt. He had taken much worse from his father without a sound. Now he was acting like a child, and he was mortified to realize he was on the verge of tears, he fought hard against them. He could take his punishment like a man; he would not break down again in front of a man who genuinely cared about him. He could be strong.

It was no use, their were too many feelings rushing through him, he felt the first of many new tears slip through the lashes of his closed eyes and fall to the floor. Once they began, he was helpless to stop them; he believed he may never stop crying again. Some were bitter tears, for a relationship he never had with a man who should have cared about him, most were tears of relief. He finally understood what if felt like to have someone care enough about you to keep you from hurting yourself. Boromir had never raised a hand to him, words had been enough, but this… this felt right.

Aragorn felt the change in Faramir immediately and brought the spanking to a halt. He slowly rubbed his back as he lay over his knees, whispering soft words of comfort to the distraught young man.

Looking up at Aragorn through his tears, Faramir felt a small part of his heart that he had thought frozen forever thaw and warm. He allowed himself to be pulled into the older man's arms and clung tightly to him as he was enveloped in a warm embrace.

Saturday, December (past)

11:11 pm

"Please?" Faramir begged, pulling out his most pleading expression, reserved solely for his big brother.

"Faramir, it is late, and the Yule is not until tomorrow, we need to go to sleep," Boromir repeated, not believing for a moment that he could dissuade his baby brother.

"It can not wait," Faramir declared firmly, taking Boromir's arm and pulling him from the room.

Boromir knew that he would easily overpower the boy if he chose to resist, but now his curiosity got the better of him and he followed almost eagerly after the delighted imp before him.

When they actually got to Faramir's chamber, he went from excited to almost shy, as he handed Boromir the small package, wrapped in silk with a pretty bow tied around it. He admired the package for a moment, thinking of his own present to Faramir which had been quickly folded into a scrap of fabric, nothing like this delicate wrapping.

Finally he took pity on Faramir who was shifting nervously from foot to foot looking like he wanted to be there and elsewhere at the same time. He untied the bow and pulled away the soft fabric, inside lay a book, it was hand made and looked like it had taken a great deal of work. The cover bore no title, so Boromir opened it to the first page, when he saw what was written there, he felt a lump form in his throat and tears prickled the backs of his eyes.

Boromir and Faramir, Brothers of Gondor.

Being an account of the adventures of the sons of the Steward Denethor.

The whole book was filled with Faramir's delicate script, stories of their accomplishments; of the games they had played together... their lives. As Boromir thumbed through it, he could not help but feel a swell of emotions for his little brother.

"Do you like it?" Faramir asked nervously.

Boromir, not being the best at expressing his emotions, simply grabbed the boy and held him tight. "It is the best gift I could ever receive," he said to the top of Faramir's head. "Thank you Faramir, I will treasure this, forever, it will never be lost or forgotten," he promised, kissing his brother's head, and continuing to hold this precious soul in his arms.

Sunday, December (present) Yuletide in Gondor

9:03 am

"Keep your eyes closed Legolas," Aragorn instructed for the sixth time.

"I have not opened them since we left the dining hall, really Estel, you are getting paranoid in your old age," Legolas retorted, stumbling slightly as his friend 'accidentally' lead him over a rough bit of stone.

"Do you want this gift or not," Aragorn snapped.

"Of course I want it!" Legolas exclaimed.

"Then be a good little elf and behave," Legolas stuck his tongue out at the back of Aragorn's head, but was unable to tell if it had any effect. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Aragorn told him to halt and moved to his side before telling him to open his eyes. What he saw brought a new joy to his heart.

"It is beautiful," Legolas said reverently.

"It is yours if you desire it," Aragorn said, knowing that Legolas would not turn him down. "I want you to keep it beautiful, Legolas, so much life has been lost to this city, and I would have you bring a bit of color back to their world."

Legolas looked at the garden before him and smiled radiantly, he could think of no better duty than this, the few trees that thrived here might just be enough; he could stay here, within walls of stone, if he knew that the souls of these trees were content to be here with him.

Aragorn smiled, he remembered something Faramir had said yesterday, about the way Legolas had been when he had escaped the city. 'His joy was tangible…' and it was, his friend was happy once again, and Aragorn felt a weight he had not even been aware of lift from his shoulders.

Sunday, December (past) Yuletide in Gondor

7:57 am

Patience was usually one of Faramir's virtues, this morning being quite an exception to the rule. Boromir had flat out refused to give Faramir his present before the Yule, and Faramir was desperate to see what his beloved brother had gotten him. Boromir had been sleeping peacefully, when all of a sudden there was a high pitched battle cry and he found himself with a lap full of bouncy baby brother.

Though Faramir often acted older than he was, once in a while he was like the little boy that Boromir remembered so vividly. He missed seeing Faramir so happy, it had been too long since the last time he had been so unreserved.

"I suppose you'll be wanting your present," Boromir said knowingly. Faramir grinned down at him and nodded enthusiastically. "May I point out the fact that, though you are a scrawny little runt, I can not retrieve anything while you are perched upon my chest."

Faramir did not even take the time to be properly indignant about the insult; he just scrambled to one side and stared at Boromir, simply brimming with eager anticipation. Boromir could not help getting a bit excited himself; he could not wait to see Faramir's reaction.

He handed the crudely wrapped package to Faramir, and sat back down, still in his nightshirt, to watch him open it.

When Faramir saw what was inside, his heart nearly stopped. "Boromir," he whispered, "I cannot take these,"

"Of course you can, they are my gift to you. I will get new ones made, these will protect you, they have served me well," he pulled the worn leather from Faramir's hand and pulled the bracers onto his slim wrists. He helped him lace them and then watched his little brother admire his gift.

Faramir flexed his wrist, enjoying the feel of the leather against his skin, they fit perfectly, snug but with enough give to allow him the movement he would need in a battle, they were obviously well cared for, and he knew that they had been one of Boromir's prized possessions, he would no sooner asked for his brother's right hand than the pieces of armor he could now call his own.

"Thank you Boromir," was all he could think of to say.

"You're welcome Faramir, use them well, I hope they protect you as they have me, for you are more precious to me than anything else in the world. Happy Yule little Brother, may the next year be good to you," he said, delighting in his brother's reaction.

"And you," Faramir answered, throwing himself into the arms of the person he loved most in the world.

Sunday, December (present again) Still Yuletide in Gondor

6:44 pm

"These are for you Faramir," Aragorn said, placing the package into the hands of his Steward.

"You did not have to…"

"I did," he stated simply, and Faramir did not argue further. What he saw when he pulled away the wrapping almost made him drop what he held in his hands. They were bracers, but much more than that. Faramir recognized the worn leather, the intricate patterns so meticulously crafted into the surface. These had belonged to Boromir, he had worn them every day, he had been wearing them when he left. Faramir ran a wondering finger over the soft swirl of one of the designs. "How did you get these?" he asked, almost unable to speak for the emotions that were nearly choking him.

"When we lost Boromir, I took them; I wore them to preserve his memory, and to keep a reminder of his bravery. I thought you would like to have them… I know he would have wanted you to have them." Aragorn said.

Faramir found himself at a loss for words, his gratitude to the man before him was boundless, and he could not even imagine how he would go about repaying the tremendous debt he owed his King… his friend.

Aragorn grasped his shoulder, and took his leave, not needing words to see the effect his gift had had. He was happy to have been able to do this for Faramir, he could see what the loss of his brother had done to him, and he wanted to reassure the young man that none of them had forgotten Boromir. His heroism would live forever in Gondor, and his memory would never die for those to whom he had mattered.

10:49 pm

Faramir was finally allowed to retire to his own chamber. Now that he allowed himself to accept it, the warmth and friendship of those around him washed over him in waves. He had been a part of it, a part of them, and he could not be happier.

He took the gift Aragorn had given him and took them to his desk. On it laid an open ledger, the heading read;

Boromir, son of Denethor

An account of the life of a hero of Gondor

It would take him a while to fill the many pages, but he would persevere until it was complete, his brother deserved that much.

He reached the shelf over the desk and placed the bracers in a place of honor, right next to the pair Boromir had given him himself, so many years ago. The leather of that first pair gleamed, they were obviously well taken care of, Faramir would go to work on this new pair in the morning. He ran careful fingers over the binding of the small book, bound by hand that was the only other occupant of that shelf. The stories he himself had written… a present for his brother.

He changed into his nightclothes and got into bed, he was exhausted, but it was a pleasant exhaustion, one that came from merriment with those who cared about him, and the excitement of the day. The Yule had always been his favorite time of the year.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he whispered to the night. "As the world moves through it's yearly cycle it takes that which is wilting and makes it new again, may the year hence be ever better than the one that came before… I love you Boromir, I miss you, but I know now that you will always be with me," that said, he quietly and contentedly drifted off to sleep.

The End


End file.
